


requiem. (fugue for violin and cello.)

by abaddon (nothingbutfic)



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Dark, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 00:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingbutfic/pseuds/abaddon
Summary: What am I, if I can't be yours?





	requiem. (fugue for violin and cello.)

**Author's Note:**

> The following is majorly nasty, and possibly the most brutal thing I've ever written. non-con, abuse, incest, chan, it's all there!
> 
> Contains spoilers for the TV series and D&R and EoE. Am a little shaky on canon; sorry. Written while listening to tracks 12 and 14 on the EoE soundtrack, as it breaks me.

  
4.

This is how he remembers it: the blinding sun, the glower from the other boy, the tension in his stance. A crack of bone against bone, and Shinji’s head before he feels the pain. He almost sinks to his knees in the hot, dry dust of the basketball court, but manages not to. Touji murmurs some platitude which Shinji doesn’t believe, and Kenskue gives an awkward half-smile, half-shrug, and then away they go.

This is how he remembers it; but it is not how it happened. There are some memories even Shinji Ikari cannot face, and so he folds them into himself like something precious that needs to be succoured, and every now and then he takes them out, dusts them out and lives in them again, knowing that they will give him the shame he so deserves.

In truth, it started off the same way. Touji, cornering him, with Kenskue looking on and doing nothing because he’s seen it all before. But Shinji’s knees remember the feel of the hot ashphalt just beneath his school trousers, and the feel of Touji’s hands in his hair as he leered and stood over him, feeding Shinji his cock. It’s nothing Shinji hasn’t done before, and the insults Touji moans out are nothing he hasn’t heard before, but the taste of Touji’s cock, salty, bitter, alive, is something he doesn’t dare remember but can’t completely forget. And even now, Shinji remembers that it’s completely unique, completely him.

Touji’s come flooded his mouth and ran over his lips, so that Shinji had to wipe his mouth with the back of his wrist, and that’s where truth and memory collide again. Kenskue gives the same half-shrug, half-smile, and Shinji wonders for a moment how many times Kenskue had to sink to his knees before he could take things so easily.

But for now, Shinji peruses the memory, his thin bedsheet kicked back, his shorts curled around his ankles. One hand curls around his cock with a grip that is more familiar than erotic, and he strokes himself with slow, long motions of his hand. This too is filthy and perverse, suitable only for a freak such as he, and when he comes hard all over his crotch, hand and thighs, Shinji cleans himself up with the toilet paper he pilfered earlier for this very reason, careful not to make a noise.

He knows that this, too, is something that did not happen.

 

3.

They were in the elevator in Central Dogma. The sync tests were over and done for the day, and apparently the school had emailed them homework, which would occupy their afternoon and evening. Both were dressed in school uniform, if only because they don’t really have any other formal clothes.

Tokyo-3 was a city of glass and crystal and steel, dedicated to one purpose and one purpose alone: the salvation of mankind. To that end, everything is run to a schedule, everything is orderly. There is a place for everything and everything in its place, and Shinji knows he is just another cog in the machine as the click of the elevator counts the floors away.

“Did you wish to have sex with me?” Rei asks, her voice quiet and calm, the question coming out of nowhere, and it’s a few long seconds before Shinji can come up with a reply.

“What did you say?”

“Did you want to have sex with me?” she repeats, turning to look at him, and there’s nothing in that gaze beyond a vague bland sensibility. She honestly expects her question to be answered, and she sees nothing wrong in the asking. Typical Rei.

The elevator doesn’t stop and she keeps looking and there’s no salvation in sight – Misato stayed behind after the tests to drink or growl or glare at Professor Akagi (probably all three, Shinji thinks) and the second child hasn’t arrived yet, although everyone’s talking about her.

“What makes you think that?” Shinji blurts out, and the elevator goes click click click and it’s all wrong because it sounds like he has something to hide, which of course he does.

“When you were in my domicile,” she says, all soft and clipped, each syllable precise as the click of the elevator and perhaps Rei is a machine too, “and you fell on me. You became aroused.”

They whir to a stop and the doors slide open and Rei doesn’t look away. Shinji says that first, fatal “yes” because there’s nothing else he can say. Rei leads the way, and Shinji follows in behind as there is nothing else for him to do.

A short while later, and they are on Rei’s bed, in her sad, empty little set of rooms. The curtains are taped in place, the wallpaper torn and faded, and the only thing that really says anyone is living there are the blood stains on the floor, and the waste paper basket full of used bandages.

She rides him as he imagines she does her Eva; her breathing comes in quiet, shallow pants, the sole indication of her exertion. Her face is a picture of dedication, and yet there’s something beyond as well; something even beyond her, a peace and a sanctity to the smooth, white curve of her breasts, which Shinji fondles, the slant of her face, and the expression that she wears: one he didn’t even think she was capable of. She’s not a virgin, judging by the lack of blood or pain from a broken hymen, and Shinji files that information away for some other, darker time.

Shinji loses himself in the tight clench of her thighs, and the wet heat of her cunt, and when he comes with a cry all is white noise and blind fury, a chorus of angels in his mind. He collapses to the bed, barely noticing as she steps astride of him, and soon the sound of water hitting tile can be heard from the bathroom as Rei takes a shower.

He is somewhat cleaned up and dressed by the time she gets out clad only in a towel, hair messy and shirt rumpled – Rei didn’t have any spare coat-hangers, sadly – but he looks passable, and he hopes he doesn’t reek of sex, the way he’s always suspected people do. There’s a brief, perfunctory talk about precautions, which Shinji blushes and mumbles his entire way through. He does know his stuff, after all, every child does. In the world after Second Impact, sex education is mandatory at age eleven, and there are incentives for those who were have been found fertile enough to breed. Abortion is banned, contraceptives illegal and the Pope is doing a jig; the human race needs to reproduce better than it can, or else they’ll be wiped from the face of the earth. Rei is far more clinical than any sensei could be, and all the more disturbing because she’s talking about herself. Rei is infertile, and she mentions it as she does everything else, as if it were the weather, and Shinji can barely disguise the sick twisted joy in his gut at that news.

Rei politely tosses him out into the street before he’s tied his shoes. Shinji struggles home with a burden that feels more like a defeat than a victory, and he doesn’t know why she made him wear his father’s broken glasses.

 

2.

When Kaji asks if he wants a cup of tea, Shinji reminds him that he’s a boy. Once that prerequisite is out of the way, they can get to some down and dirty groping on their next encounter as the drink machine.

At least, it sounds better that way, doesn’t it? It sounds erotic, hard, furious, exciting, and lots of other words that Shinji has gone through his English Dictionary and underlined. He can’t even remember how it started; he knows Kaji asked him if he wanted something to eat, and then Kaji’s hands were fast holding to Shinji’s upper arms and it’s all a blur from then till he comes with a sigh, spilling himself all over Kaji’s hands quick, all too quick, and Shinji averts his eyes so he can’t be embarrassed by the look that he knows Kaji will give him.

Kaji dusts him down, smooths his clothes, buys him a soda, and sends him on his way. The harsh, sweet taste of Coke is enough to wash away the faint taste of cigarettes and cinnamon in Shinji’s mouth, and although he doesn’t really like Coke, it would be impolite to waste it, so he drinks it down on his way home.

Asuka takes one look at him and declares he looks like a drowned rat, before bombarding him with questions as to who he got into a fight with. Shinji’s face feels scratched all over – from Kaji’s stubble, he guesses – and he’s still not settled, so it’s easy to just fluster and avoid the question, which is what he would do anyway. Part of him wants to tell her what happened, just to see the look on her face, but for the most part he’s glad that this girl is just a child like the rest of them, and not the woman she pretends to be.

Shinji retreats to his room and his tape player, and licks the dry come from his hands. Kaji pulled him up and out from the chair in the hall just after he came, all sharp angles and unforgiving hard plastic. The taste is a little heavy; like flour, like salt, like nothing in between, and Shinji makes sure there’s no trace before Misato comes home.

When she sticks the head in the door, he turns away, but he can’t get away from her that easily, and when they sit down to dinner she eyes the redness across his face with a look that knows rather than understands. He gets up to do the dishes, Asuka goes back to her television, with loud music and flashing colours – and Shinji always wonders why the imagery and sound reminds him of being in an Eva during battle – but Misato shakes her head with one quick jerk from left to right and pushes him back in his seat. Without saying why, she starts doing the dishes herself tonight, after getting him a beer from the fridge.

 

1.

Shinji’s lost count of the number of times he’s run away. Away from NERV, away from Misato, away from Eva and blood and battles and death. But he keeps coming back, because there’s nowhere for him to go. The blood’s a part of him now, after what happened to Touji. Perhaps it always was.

If Eva was the only thing he was good at, and all Eva does is kill, then all he is is a killer. He can say he’ll stop, and mean it, but that never works either. He’s the one boy in all the world who has the power to save it, and damnation is his chief reward.

Professor Akagi tells him quietly that he has to report to the Commander’s office, and there’s something sagging in her voice. Like the rest of them, she’s been pushed to the limit and past it; beyond what she thought she was capable of, and she’s been found wanting.

Shinji takes his time in getting there, not walking quickly nor dragging his heels, for he knows this time will, must, come. Instead, he trails his fingers along the cool metal skin of the walls, feeling the slight whisp of air wash over him as he travels the moving walkways, and when he gets to his father’s office he can hate him and nothing more.

He and Gendo look at one another, Gendo’s palms flat against the polished wooden surface of his desk and Gendo pushes himself back slightly. Shinji knows what to do; he positions himself under the desk between Gendo’s legs, unzips the fly and quietly swallows his father’s cock with a muffled choking noise. He’s not that used to it yet, or the pull in his hair, but he knows he will be in time. He knows too, with a terrible sense of remembering ahead, that this is all he is and all he will be, and if he has children he will treat them far worse than Gendo ever did him.

That thought is almost comforting, and Shinji falls into the drowsy repetition of sucking his father off. Gendo comes softly, with a sigh that might have been Yui’s name, and without a word Shinji is dismissed to find his own entertainment and made good until his next, inevitable punishment.

 

0.

School’s out – permanently, seeing as there’s a big lake where half the city used to be. Shinji walks by there every day, if only to remember what he caused. He’s alone now and it’s all his fault, no-one else’s.

A boy hums just over to one side, and Shinji hates him instantly for being happy when he himself can not. Yet the boy smiles at him, and keeps smiling. In an instant Shinji realises what the boy is offering, and every second they spend together Kaworu offers it again and again in his smile, his voice, the glint in his eye, and the hands that move close to Shinji before Shinji can run away.

He does not let Kaworu touch him, because that would be too easy, however he may want to. He does not let Kaworu touch him in the shower, or hold his hand on the walk home, or curl up next to him in bed. When Kaworu betrays him, Shinji is absurdly grateful, for Kaworu becomes just like the others, and no threat at all.

In the days after Kaworu’s death, Shinji wraps himself up in grief like a shroud, and divests himself of all other emotion. When he allows himself, he wonders what it would have been like to find absolution in that touch, and does not know if that possibility or his current fate horrifies him more.

The world ends, as it should, and everything passes away: utterly, utterly, a terrible beauty is born. Shinji is left on the seashore with the one person who owes him no pity, and who can hurt him the most.

God’s in His heaven and all’s right with the world.   



End file.
